Everyone smiled as women got to their feet. Everyone clapped. He continued talking. I didn’t hear what he said. I couldn’t breathe and for a moment I thought I’d faint. Instead, I bolted for the door, stumbling over people to get out of the pew.
My aunt put a hand out to stop me. I shook her off.
“Let her go, Bess,” I heard Russ say.
How do you celebrate Mother’s Day when your mother is dead?
Outside I gulped air, tears streamed down my cheeks. Grief hit me broadside like a tractor trailer. I ran into the nearby cemetery, losing myself among the graves. But, I couldn’t out run the ache in my heart.
Mom was dead. She’d never help me pick out another dress or watch me graduate or attend my wedding. I’d never talk to her or hug her again. A knife twisted in my gut and I doubled up.
Stumbling to a concrete bench, I sat down and covered my face with my hands. It took a long time to stop crying. A bird trilled from a cottonwood tree nearby. The melody of All Things Bright and Beautiful came faintly from the church. I didn’t go back. Instead, I sat alone on the cold bench, grateful for the solitude.
I remembered Mother’s Day last year. Dad and I gave Mom a beautiful arrangement of spring flowers. They were delivered the day before. Mom bent over to smell them and when she stood up, she had tears in her eyes.
“Dad and I picked them out,” I said before she hugged me. “You did a good job,” she whispered. Mom rarely showed emotion. The gift was a hit. The next day we went to her favorite pancake house for breakfast. We laughed and talked. I ate crepes, unaware it would be the last Mother’s Day we’d celebrate.
Would this keep happening? Would something remind me of Mom and Dad and set me off? I felt exhausted.
In the distance I heard voices and cars leaving the lot.
Then I sensed movement near me.
“Are you all right, honey?” asked my aunt.
“No,” I whispered. Looking up at her I asked, “When does it stop hurting?”
“It doesn’t.” She sighed. “It gets a little easier with time. I lost Jacob fifteen years ago. Sometimes at night I turn over and swear he’s right beside me.” Her voice got heavy with emotion. “Then I realize he’s gone and it starts hurting all over again.”
“Great.” I sighed. This wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
She put a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, let’s head back.”
“Can’t we just go home? I don’t want refreshments. My eyes are probably all red from crying. I must look a mess.”
“I’ll get Russ,” she said. “We’ll meet you by the car.”
So I sat in the middle of the cemetery surrounded by graves. Gradually my eyes focused on the headstone in front of me.
Mary Ferguson, beloved wife and mother. Below were engraved the date she was born and the date she died.
I couldn’t believe I sat in front of Rick’s mother’s grave.
Then I heard voices behind me.
“Are you okay, Maryann?”
Doug Ferguson stood with a small bouquet of flowers, Rick next to him.
“I’ll be fine,” I lied.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said.
Stepping around me he placed the flowers on his wife’s grave.
“Maryann, it’s time to go,” Aunt Bess called from a short distance away. From her tone, I knew she was angry.
I stood up. “Well I gotta go.”
“See you at school tomorrow,” said Rick.
I nodded unable to speak, afraid I’d start crying all over again.
As I approached my aunt, I put up both hands before she could say anything.
“I didn’t sit by Mary Ferguson’s grave on purpose,” I said. “It was just the first bench I came to.”
Did she believe me? I didn’t care. That seemed to satisfy her because she didn’t reply. I followed her back to the car where Russ stood patiently waiting for us.
The ride home was quiet, which suited me. By now I had such a bad headache I couldn’t see straight. So I sat back and closed my eyes.
When we got back to the ranch I stumbled out of the car.
“I’ve got a headache. Going to bed. Don’t want lunch.”
Even saying those few words was a monumental effort.
The rest of the day faded as I crawled under the quilt on my bed and sleep claimed me.
Sometime during the night Aunt Bess came to check on me.
“Do you want anything to eat?”
I shook my head.
“Is your headache any better?”
“Worse,” I whispered.
“Here, take these.” She handed me some pills and a glass of water.
While I swallowed, she said. “If you’re not feeling better tomorrow, You’re staying home from school.”
I didn’t have the energy to argue.
Later that night I dreamed about shopping with Mom. So, in a way, we spent part of the day together.
Maybe next year Mother’s Day would be easier.
Chapter 17
Monday, May 15, 1961
Everyone at school was obsessed with the spring dance. Lisa, turned out to be no different.
“Let’s go to the spring dance,” said Lisa the next day at school.
“Not hardly,” I replied. “No way Aunt Bess will let me go if there’s any chance Rick will be there.”
I had told Lisa about Aunt Bess catching us at the end of the driveway after Rick had kissed me.
“What was it like,” Lisa asked. “Is he a good kisser?”
I laughed. “Yeah, like I’ve had so much experience.”
“What was it like? Tell me.” she pressed excitedly.
“It was... Oh Lisa. it was wonderful,” I said at a loss for words to describe the kiss.
“We have to go to the dance,” Lisa insisted. “We don’t need a date. We can go stag. Lots of kids do.”
Dancing with Rick wasn’t something I let myself think about. It wouldn’t happen. Not if my aunt had breath in her body. If I went to the dance, she had no control over me; it would never happen.
“It will never work,” I replied, discouraged. “Aunt Bess will never let me go.”
Lisa was not put off. “Well, I’m going to have my mother talk to her.”
It didn’t matter who spoke to my aunt because I knew she wouldn’t let me go.
“I have it all worked out.” Lisa continued. “You can stay at my house since the dance is Friday night. It will be so much fun.”
As we walked down the hall to English, Lisa was busy telling me her plans. I didn’t listen. I’d had enough disappointments. I couldn’t face another one.
“We just have to get you a dress.”
Half listening, I heard my name called. I turned around. There was Rick. I hadn’t seen him since my melt down the day before.
“Hello.” Oh no; that sounded so lame.
He herded me down the hall. “I’ve got to talk to you,” he said urgently, steering me clear of everyone in the hall until we were by the door.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Will you go to the spring dance with me?”
“Oh Rick, you too? Lisa wants me to go to the dance with her and stay overnight. My aunt will never let me go.” I laughed. “Lisa is so determined I’m going to the dance that she’s having her mom talk to Aunt Bess.”
“I know,” said Rick.
“What?”
“Where do you think Lisa got the idea?” he said, smiling.
“Oh.”
What could I say when it was clear Lisa and Rick plotted behind my back. I refused to get my hopes up.
Rick held my arm. “Will you go with me?”
“I can’t go with you. If I do go — and that’s a big if — I’m going stag with Lisa.”
“But you’ll be at the dance?”
“Only if, by some miracle my aunt lets me go. I doubt that’s gonna happen.”
Pauline approached
and slowed down. “Oh isn’t that cute,” she drawled with a smirk on her face. “Little Orphan Annie wants to be invited to the spring dance.”
She looked at Rick, and then turned to me. “Too late, sweetie, Rick’s going with me.”
Reaching out with her long red nails, she caressed his cheek.
“Remember, Rick?” she purred.
He turned, his eyes flashing. “Get outta here, Pauline,” he growled in a low voice. “This isn’t any of your business.”
“Oh, it is, Rick. As long as you remember you’re going to the dance with me — not her.”
She turned away and tossed her blonde hair as she walked down the hall.
“What was that about?” I asked him.
He shrugged. I didn’t let him off the hook that easy.
“You’re not going to the dance with her, are you?”
The question hung in the air between us growing bigger the longer I waited for his answer.
“She tried to blackmail me,” he explained. “Since your aunt already knows I’ve been giving you a ride home from school, no, I’m not going to the dance with her.”
“You were going to,” I said, disappointed he’d even consider going with her.
“Yeah, but now I’m not.
“Oh Rick.” I felt disappointed, betrayed.
“So I’ll see you at the school dance?” he asked hopefully.
“No, you won’t. I told you Aunt Bess will never let me go.” I turned away.
“We’ll see about that,” Rick said.
I wound up being late to class. Thankfully they were late getting started so I didn’t miss anything.
Lisa smiled when I took my seat as if she knew what Rick asked me.
Everyone at school seemed obsessed with the upcoming dance. I put it out of my head, knowing I couldn’t go. I made peace with it — until I got home.
* * *
Aunt Bess stood in the kitchen.
“Must feel kinda funny taking the bus,” she remarked.
“I’ll get used to it.” I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much I missed getting a ride home with Rick.
“I better go change,” I said knowing there was work to do in the barn.
“Better not,” Aunt Bess said.
I turned around. “What do you mean?”
“We’re going into town,” she said. “Seems there’s a spring dance and we gotta get you a dress.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re going to let me go to the spring dance?”
“Ruth Barrows, Lisa’s mother, called. You’re invited to spend the night at their house. Ruth is one of the chaperones at the dance. She promised to keep an eye on you for me.”
“But…” I stopped myself before I mentioned Rick. She couldn’t prevent Rick from going to the dance.
“Now let’s see about that dress.”
Speechless, I followed her out the door.
In town we didn’t find anything at the first store we visited. When we walked in the next store, I was just as confused looking through the dresses. I didn’t know what to pick.
Aunt Bess pulled a light blue dress and handed it to me.
“Try this one on. The color matches your eyes.”
I hated trying on clothes because nothing ever fit the way I liked. My mother and I had different tastes. What she liked I didn’t and what I liked, she hated. Only occasionally did we agree. Our shopping excursions usually ended when I got tired and gave in. Why would Wyoming to be any different?
Taking my school clothes off, I slipped the dress over my head. It felt incredibly soft and had long sleeves with a scoop neck. The empire style was marked by a dark blue satin ribbon under the bust that tied in the back. When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognize the girl who stared back.
“Maryann, does it fit? Come out so I can see.”
Coming out of the dressing room, I felt suddenly shy.
“What…what do you think?” I stood awkwardly in front of the full-length mirror. I hated looking in full-length mirrors.
Then Pauline Richardson emerged from the dressing room in a red dress that fit her curves like a glove. She glared at my reflection from her high heels.
“How quaint,” she said sneering at my dress.
Aunt Bess made me turn around then lift my arms to make sure of the fit. She stepped back and studied me like one of her prize-winning horses. I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Well?” I asked unsure looking in the full-length mirror.
Before I could say a word, Pauline cut in.
“Little Orphan Annie, you look like the Ice Queen,” she smirked, and then turned to Aunt Bess. “Don’t you think it’s a little juvenile for her?”
Aunt Bess looked Pauline in the eye. “Her name is Maryann and I’ll thank you to remember it.” She turned to me.
“It’s not everyone who can wear this style,” she pronounced, then glared at Pauline. “Especially someone with your hips.”
Pauline went back to the dressing room.
“You look beautiful, Maryann.”
“I…I do?”
Surprised, I turned around to look at her and burst into tears.
I missed my mother. She should have been here helping me pick out my dress for the spring dance.
“It’s nothing to cry about.” She wiped the tears from my eyes with a tissue.
Then she turned me around so I could look in the mirror. Stepping behind me, she put her hands on my shoulders. Our reflections stared back at us.
“You look beautiful,” she whispered in my ear.
She hugged me then gently pushed me toward the dressing room. “Now go change. We’ve still gotta get shoes.”
Pauline came out as I went back to change. She shoved against me, hard, even though there was plenty of room.
“Watch out,” she snarled.
Back in the dressing room I slipped the dress off and hung it carefully back on the hanger. I couldn’t believe I would attend the fall dance.
When I came out of the dressing room, I wondered about accessories. My mother had been big on accessories.
“Do I need anything to go with the dress?” I asked, “Like…like jewelry or something?” I felt like crying again. It was so stupid. I should be happy. Instead, I was almost in tears.
Aunt Bess took one look at my face and took the dress from me. “A dress this elegant doesn’t need a lot of ‘do-dads.’ Just a simple necklace will do. I have the perfect one at home. So don’t you worry.”
She took my arm. “Now let’s see about those shoes.”
I picked up a pair of navy shoes with a little bow and low heels. They matched the ribbon on the dress.
“How about these?” I asked turning around and showing them to her.
She picked up a pair of navy pumps.
“Try these on instead,” she said. “I think they’ll go better with your dress.”
We searched for my size and I slipped them on.
At first, I wobbled, not used to the height of the heels.
“Walk up and down,” instructed my aunt. “I want to see how they look.”
After a couple of times down and back on the carpet, I felt more comfortable.
“Much better,” she said with approval. “Now you look like you’re ready for a dance.”
“Do you like these better than the ones with the bow?” I asked, still unsure.
“Oh yes. These are the ones,” she said. “The other shoes don’t hold a candle to these.” She put her arm around me. “You’ll look more grown up in these.”
“Thank you Aunt Bess,” I said, “for helping me find a dress.”
We checked out of the store. She turned to me.
“I’ve never helped anyone buy a dress before,” she admitted. “I’m glad we found you the right one.”
“So am I.”
“You’re gonna look real pretty in it, Maryann.”
Instead of being glad
for help picking out the dress, I missed Mom so much it made my stomach churn.
I should be grateful about going to the dance. Instead my eyes filled and I felt relieved my aunt couldn’t see the tears.
Chapter 18
Friday, May 19, 1961
Friday was there before I knew it -- and so was the spring dance. I still couldn’t believe I’d be going. School got out at 1:00 p.m. so everyone could finish decorating the gym for the dance. I’d volunteered, at Lisa’s insistence, to help. We decorated tables, put up streamers, and blew up balloons. Several of the football players helped arrange the large painted cardboard panels of scenery some seniors had painted to look like a spring meadow. I couldn’t believe how much work it took to put on a dance.
“Hey.”
I turned around recognizing Rick’s voice.
“Hi,” I went blank and couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just smiled. He took one end of the table cloth and we put it over the table. Then he turned to face me.
“So I heard you’re coming to the dance after all.”
“Yeah, isn’t it amazing? Aunt Bess changed her mind.”
I grabbed another tablecloth. Again he took one end and together we put it over the other table.
“Who would have thought it possible?” Rick teased.
I wondered just what he and Lisa cooked up to get my aunt to agree to let me go. Whatever they did, it was nothing short of a miracle.
“I’m staying overnight at Lisa’s house. I’ll see you later.”
“Sure will. Remember what you promised.”
“What did I promise?” I asked dumbly.
“The first dance,” he replied taking my hand and squeezing it. “See you later.”
He walked over to a group of guys who were arranging chairs around the perimeter of the room.
Across the room I saw Pauline with her friends blowing up more balloons.
“It figures she’s doing the balloons,” said Lisa coming up alongside of me. “All that hot air’s gotta go somewhere.”
We burst out laughing. Pauline saw us laughing at her. If looks could kill we’d be dead on the floor. I didn’t care because I was going to the dance. Nothing she did could prevent that.
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